


Hold Me Tight

by DoeEyedButterFly



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:42:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoeEyedButterFly/pseuds/DoeEyedButterFly
Summary: little bit of a sad AU (but who knows what the future brings)
Relationships: Rachel Amber/Chloe Price
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. Hold HER Tight

Chloe's eyes hold me tight, they always did when we had sex.  
It wasn't planned, but definitely wanted.  
She had seen me flirt with this pretty girl. She had pink hair, big curls, and moved like a cat when she danced. She looked at me like I used to look at people and I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her because she reminded me of myself. A myself that hasn't existed for a long time.

She kissed me instead and I let it happen.  
Chloe saw it and she pulled me away from her and yelled at me, wanting to know why I was doing this, pointing to the ring on my finger and reminding me that I was married.  
She became more and more angry and a warm feeling developed in my stomach and in my pants.  
I had missed arguing with Chloe so much, missed seeing her jealous.

I knew well that this is not healthy.  
I didn't give a shit.

"What do you know about my marriage ?!" I snapped back.  
"I'm trapped in a relationship with a man I don't love and who doesn't love me, I'm only staying with him because of the children! What are you doing here anyway? Why did you come here? You're getting married in three weeks!"

Chloe didn't answer me. Not right away anyway.  
She grabbed my arm and pulled me outside, only then let go of me.  
With her back to me, she spoke, telling me that I had to know that she was here because of me.  
I looked at my shoes for a long time.  
When I looked up again, Chloe was running down the street.

I went home and cried.  
I wiped away the tears.  
I kissed the children who were already asleep and put the wedding ring on the bedside table.  
I woke my husband. Told him that I would look for a new apartment.  
He just looked at me and said nothing, he must have seen it coming.  
Then he got up and said he would sleep at his brother's. I knew he was lying. He would go straight to his boyfriend. Tell him they could be together in the future.

I took my pillow and slept on the couch.  
I dreamed of Chloe, Chloe with pink hair. Her lips were perfect.  
I woke up crying and decided to call her.  
She answered the phone after one ring and agreed to come to my apartment.

  
Chloe's eyes hold me tight, they always did when we had sex.  
Chloe was getting married in three weeks and I was getting a divorce.  
But for this moment I will enjoy her wonderful body on mine.


	2. Hold ME Tight

"Rachel Amber"  
"Yes"  
"Good to have you back on the show."  
"Thank you for having me back on your show."   
"I read your book last night; 'Holding On Tight', it was published just one day ago and boy oh boy, wow. It made me cry and I... I was shocked to the core, honestly. Parts of it were just... wow."  
"I know right?! Well thank you for reading it."  
  
  
"Rachel, in your book you talk so openly about your past, I have never read anything like that before and I have spoken to so many people in my career. I was deeply moved by the way you described your feelings and the emotions you had when you, due to your drug addiction, lost basically every single person who ever mattered to you - everyone you loved. Is that really what happened?"  
"Yes, it is, every single person - back then, unless they were useful to me somehow, if not, yeah. Anyone I ever loved."

"You are known, you are a celebrity now, you even have your own foundation and yet you are so young. I didn't realize how young you are Rachel, until you described how you met your, now ex-husband, and how old he is."  
"Yes, my ex-husband is seventeen years older than me, I got to know him in a self-help group and learned to love him as a person, we supported each other and batteled addiction together and stayed together - until wê parted."  
  
"You wrote about the divorce, just briefly mentioned it, but the kids ... they're his kids, aren't they?"  
"No. He brought two older children into the marriage, that's right, but we were together for a few years, his youngest son wasn't even two years old then. He bonded with me quickly and started calling me Mommy, so I legally adopted him later."  
"Goodness, bless your soul and his. Did you want to adopt the other children too?"  
"That was never an option- the kids didn't want that, they liked me, but they were attached to their mother and the age difference was the decisive factor."  
  
"Do you see the children?"  
"Only the little one. We have legal settlements that I am not allowed to speak about publicly."  
"But you miss the other two?"  
"Yes. Of course."  
  
"I was very surprised at how openly you dealt with the topic of cheating in the book and you admitted to so many mistakes from your past."  
"Why did that surprise you?"  
"Well, I do think about what I'm saying on TV, even though it is scripted, my in-laws watch this show. Weren't you hesitant at any point about exposing yourself?"  
"No. And I'll tell you why. I was a drug addict and a drinker, I abused prescription pills for chronic pain. My behavior over the years has already exposed the worst of me. Many things in my past come from a place of guilt and shame and and I don't want to hide the things I've done anymore. Many times I wished to go back in time, to try again with a better outcome. But that doesn't work. I have to live with it. That was the basis for my book. 

My agent called me one day and told me she had booked an appointment. A panel, young influencers, the audience full of young girls. It's about role models for these kids and our responsibility.  
I just broke down right there at home.

I didn't want to go.  
I was a fresh divorcee and the person I loved had married a few months earlier and lived in another city. I was alone in my little apartment and my thoughts.  
Role Model? Me? Responsibility?  
What should I tell these girls? That I've tried just about every drug? That I dropped out of school several times and only graduated as an adult? That at some point I could no longer pay my dealer and therefore slept with him several times? That I started an affair with my teacher as a teenager and cheated on my then-girlfriend?  
That I smuggled pills in my vagina into a rehabilitation clinic? That I have repeatedly claimed to be clean when I wasn't?  
That I relapsed several times and got high again immediately after performing?  
That my marriage was a joke and we were only together for the pretense of security and ultimately because children were involved who needed us?  
What was I supposed to tell these young girls? The absolute last thing I wanted, was for someone to look up to me and see me as a role model. Especially young girls.

But I couldn't talk to anyone about that and so I started to write. You read the result last night."  
  


"Rachel- I don't even know what to say. It's so much and so real and so scary. I don't want to spoil anything, everyone should read your book, absolutely. I admire your strength.

Still, I noticed that there is no positive outlook for the future. Your book ends with feeling lonely.  
But is there really not a tiny glimmer of hope? Are you seeing someone right now? "

"I ... I'm interested in someone ... but I don't want to be specific at the moment to protect the person's identity.  
The book ends in the unknown, because this is my future. Uncertain. Unknown. And that's okay, anything is possible. "

"Thank you Rachel. Thank you for being here. Hold On Tight is out now, buy it, read it! Thank you again Rachel."  
"It's been a pleasure. Thank you."


	3. Hold ON Tight

I was very sure of one thing.  
Nothing is ever certain:  
Nobody is ever safe.  
Nothing is forever.  
And you can take nothing for granted.  
  
  


Every mountain seems like a small hill once you've climbed Everest.  
  


I hated it, the cold wasn't the problem, nor was that I had to manage my oxygen. I wasn't even afraid, knowing full well, that I would have to step over buried bodies. But the loneliness, especially the loneliness of my thoughts.  
  
  
Again and again I tried to force myself not to think about anything. About nothing.  
But I did.  
My children floated through my mind.  
Chloe was mine again and again.  
I couldn't stop loving her, I realized that on the long way up.  
That there was nothing I could do about it on the long way down.

Because of the distance, I only saw my son during the school holidays.  
My ex-husband had moved away and took the children with him. I told myself it was better that way.

Then again came the phases where every breath hurt. Where my thoughts threatened to suffocate me.

With every step up the hill, I remembered more clearly.  
Chloe and I came up here many years ago.  
She hadn't let it show, but she'd rummaged for something in a hollow branch and finally pulled out a small box.  
She had been here before and hid the box for me. What a surprise.  
  
  
I smiled as I reached inside. No expectation whatsoever. Those who have expectations are bound to get hurt and disappointed.  
I brushed against something hard, it was a little box, another little box, a NEW little box.  
A box with an address in it. An address and a phone number.  
Chloe's handwriting. Looked recent.

"You must know that I'm here because of you," echoed through my head.

I looked down the hill. I had come this far and yet I was still looking, still searching.  
But she had been up here too.

I took the blue feather from my ear and put it in the box, hid it again in the branch and slowly climbed with the cell phone in one hand, and the new information that could change my life if I mustered up the courage to call her, in the other hand, back down the hill. This time a different route that I didn't know and hadn't taken yet.


End file.
